Last week, I sent you an essay on how I respond, as a creative person, to Artificial Intelligence.

It’s so exciting to be in attendance at the birth of a technology with such potential to make our lives better and easier. But it’s also problematic, and I think about that a lot, too.

It was an essay I first drafted more than six months ago, but to be honest, I sat on it for so long because I was nervous about sending it to you.

I’ve seen such an unpleasant response in the art community to the very mention of AI, and frankly, I didn’t want to turn you off. I figured you’d either be indifferent or irritated.

It turns out neither was true.

Within minutes, your replies start to flood in by the hundreds. And they were funny, thoughtful, wary, inventive — and all over the map.

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Some people felt that AI had nothing to do with them, a gizmo they didn’t want or need. (Do you remember when the PC was first introduced and we were told it could help us organize recipes and do our banking? Yeah, like that.)

Jack B. shrugged it off: “I doubt I’ll be using AI much at my age. I feel good just making art as it is!” Bill D., at 81, agreed: “I have no fears that a software algorithm is about to take over writing my daily journaling or start filling in blank pages in my numerous sketchbooks.”

I understand these attitudes. After all, learning a new technology can be confusing and time-consuming, and if you don’t understand how it would benefit, why not just stick to the tried and true?

And some people don’t just think AI is irrelevant; it’s morally dubious.

Charles W., a software engineer, explained his resistance: “Something I consider a tool should be reliable, predictable, and under my control. ChatGPT (and the company that controls it) does not fit that description at all.”​
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Some readers admiited they don’t know that much about the technology, and they were intrigued by how I use it.

Trisha O. confessed that my essay had nudged her toward curiosity. “They say that if something scares you, then learn more about it, so I am.” Maggie C. felt reassured: “I’ve been freaking myself out about this very subject, and your reminder to just make authentic work was very helpful.” Arlene W. found it expansive: “Thank you for this essay; it touches my heart… This time, you took me to a different dimension — one of hope and expansion.”

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And a lot of creative people had already joined me in experimenting with AI.

Patrick R. uses ChatGPT like tracing paper: “I create prompts of what I am seeing in my head… it generates something and I build on it… then I transfer it to canvas. Am I cheating? The thought is original… I am actually doing the work of painting it myself.” He credits it with helping him emerge from a slump and prepare for a 30-piece art show.

Mary W. treats it like an unpredictable collaborator: sometimes it offers brilliant insights, sometimes it clangs like a “defective tuning fork.” Still, as she put it, “to me AI now starts to feel more like something potentially exciting than something scary.”

Becky H. pairs her sketches with haiku written by Google’s Gemini, like this one about a luna moth:
​Green wings on the dark, / Drawn to the moon’s silver light, / A ghost in the night.

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I use ChatGPT as a collaborator too. I love getting a second opinion on what I am making or thinking. When I was overwhelmed by all the ideas I had for my new course, it helped me structure the lesson plan and test it for clarity. When I finish an essay, I ask it to read it over like a subscriber would and point out redundancies and any confusing sections.

It’s also helpful in ordinary ways. It helped me think through a renovation to our back patio and a new lighting design for my studio. I fed it the manual for my new camera, a 200-page PDF that was so poorly written it might as well have been in Japanese, and it answered all my troubleshooting questions, step by step.
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Several readers described how they use it like a coach or teacher.

Florie E. uploaded a photo of her painting and got suggestions on composition. Jeanie L. did the same with another painting and said the advice was “like having a teacher in the room.” Pari P. uses AI for lesson planning, producing skill-mapped schedules and even PowerPoint outlines. Andrea C. uses it to bridge language gaps as a Spanish speaker and to experiment with artistic perspectives. And Anja H. came away more convinced than ever that authenticity matters most: AI’s lack of true understanding only reinforced her determination to keep making collages and textiles that carry her own intent.

Ryan M. captured the cautious middle ground: “AI-generated art is still very cold and generic to the experienced eye, but the tools and the speed at which they are improving can’t be ignored either. They should be embraced, carefully.”

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So on the one hand, we’re starting to use these tools to make our lives easier and richer, albeit warily. However, interacting with this alien intelligence also serves to remind us that, no matter how efficient or productive these tools may make us, we must cherish what it means to be human, authentic, and creative.

Thanks to everyone who shared their experiences with me. What I feared might push you away ended up pulling us closer. That feels like the most human outcome of all.

Your pal,

Danny

P.S. Next week, I'm turning 65. Some people use that as an excuse to retire. Not me. I’m still drawing, still teaching, still excited to share this stuff with you. And, to celebrate, this week only, we're having a special sale at Sketchbook Skool. All our $99 courses are just $65! 👉 Use coupon code BIRTHDAY65 at checkout. Click here to grab yours.